


A Rendezvous

by nadia5803



Series: nadia’s king lear au [3]
Category: King Lear - Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadia5803/pseuds/nadia5803
Summary: Kent and Cornwall have a chat.
Series: nadia’s king lear au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612093
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	A Rendezvous

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“Huh?”

“Him, Gloucester. Why the hell did you invite him?”

Kent tried to gesture over Gloucester’s shoulder without drawing too much attention. Gloucester, already a little wine-drunk and tipsy, cocked his head, searching through the crowd and pointing a forthright finger at the Duke of Cornwall. “Him?” 

The exact man Kent had been referring to. Panicked, Kent pushed down Gloucester’s arm, hoping that Cornwall hadn’t caught wind of their antics. “Don’t do that. You’re drunk. How many drinks did you have, buddy?” Kent mumbled, plucking Gloucester’s wine glass from his hand. Gloucester started to count on his fingers but got quickly flabbergasted and jammed his hands in his pockets. 

“I dunno. I can’t remember,” Gloucester mumbled, scratching the back of his neck and knocking his knees. Kent, standing on the balls of his feet, tried to peek over his tall friend’s shoulder. Cornwall’s faraway eyes struck him, and he plopped back down. “Fuck.”

“What? Give me back my drink, dude,” Gloucester whined, trying to take his drink back from Kent. Kent ignored him, taking a long sip and then handing him the empty glass.   
“There you go. Stop, you’ve had too many now.”

Gloucester slurred a complaint and gave Kent a gentle shove as he headed back into the crowd, leaving Kent standing alone with nothing but his own empty glass in hand. He hadn’t had a drink, but Kent already felt as if the music playing over the speakers had been distorted and slowed. Cornwall stared at him. Kent felt his stomach drop and he turned towards the wall, wide-eyed and desperately trying to find an excuse for a daring escape. His attempt at a serious moment of thought was thwarted, however, by the feeling of a tap on his shoulder.

“Mr. Kent.”

“Mr. Cornwall…” Kent murmured, twirling around and flashing his most charismatic smile. Cornwall stared down at him with a cold look on his face, and Kent felt the blood drain out of his face before Cornwall playfully hit him on the shoulder, breaking into an unsettling grin. “Just pulling your leg. I noticed your gossiping and I just wanted you to know whatever you want to say about me you can say to my face.”

“I wasn’t… gossiping, I’m not a gossiper, okay? I was just having a normal conversation with my dear friend Gloucester, and he happened to drunkenly point at you. He gets very tipsy sometimes, you know him, right? He’s quite tipsy. Actually, I better go find him before he gets another dri-”

“Save it.”

Kent shrunk back, leaning against the table and feeling helpless as Cornwall spun him around, walking him towards the porch. “Let’s have a chat, Kent. Just you and me,” Cornwall said, smooth as a priest giving a sermon. Kent paled, nodding his head and allowing for Cornwall to guide him to the porch. Cornwall swung open the glass door, leading Kent outside, and shut it behind him. 

“So?” Kent asked. Cornwall flashed another eerie smile at him and walked over to the edge of the porch, looking out at the shadowy treetops and the dim lights of the city in the distance. He didn’t say anything, merely reached in his pocket and pulled out his lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Kent stood there, leaning against the door like a deer in the headlights. A flicker of light lit up Cornwall’s face as he ignited his cigarette, and he turned back to Kent wordlessly.

“Um… congrats on your proposal?” Kent said, hoping to throw out a conversation starter and distract Cornwall. Unfortunately, he was not a man who was easily distracted. Cornwall raised a suspicious eyebrow, and held up the pack of cigarettes. “Thanks. Would you like one?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kent straightened up, narrowing his eyes as Cornwall pressed himself against the porch siding. 

“You know what it means, come on. I know you’re smart. I know you have the ability to process the subtext behind what I’m saying and what I feel right now at this moment. What I feel towards you. Towards this party. You’re a clever little man, Kent, why don’t you do some analysis?”  
“No need to lecture me,” Kent muttered, rolling his eyes. “Are you calling me a pansy? Just because I don’t smoke? I don’t want to get lung damage, Cornwall, simple as that. Am I just suddenly a coward now because I won’t smoke?”

“You are a pansy. And a coward,” Cornwall huffed, pressing the cigarette down on the railing and sending it spiraling off with a flick of his fingers.

“Great, so is this a roast session now? Can I leave? Please? I need to go check on Gloucester. He’s going to start puking any minute now,” Kent grumbled, placing his hand on the doorknob.

“Wait. Don’t go.”

Unsure of why, Kent pulled his hand away from the doorknob and slouched back against the glass. “Gonna insult me some more, now?”

“No. I won’t insult you. I need to ask you a question.”

“I won’t tell you anything until you apologize. I know what you want, Cornwall, I’m not letting you push me around anymore. You’re a dickhead.” Kent slammed his hand on the doorknob and tried to pull it open when he was interrupted by hands on his waist. Shrieking, Kent was pulled off his feet by Cornwall. 

“Listen to me, you insolent stubborn idiot,” Cornwall whispered as he threw Kent across his shoulder. “I know you think you’re such an intellectual, but you’re not. You’re not a fucking scholar. You’re a dumb little brownnosing fool who has that old pig wrapped around your finger through some witchery.”

Cornwall slammed Kent feetfirst against the railing and towered over him. “I know your dirty little secret. You are nothing but a fraud, Richard Kent. Raised in a tiny dirty house in the poorest corner of London? You’re nothing but a nobody from a nobody family. You butted your way in here unfairly and took what was rightfully mine. What was rightfully everyone else’s. I just wish that you’d realize what an insolent cockbiter you are instead of being so full of yourself all the time, smartass. You’re nothing but a fucking invader!” he spat, drawing his hand back in a tight fist.

Kent fell back, pressed against the siding, wide-eyed and trembling as Cornwall’s eyes blazed with his arm poised for a hit. As Kent covered his face, shaking and mumbling rapid apologies, Cornwall’s eyes softened and he took a step back.   
“Fuck. Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that, Kent, I’m sorry.” Cornwall crouched, placing his firm hands on Kent’s shoulders. Kent tried to pull aside, but Cornwall resisted, gently holding him as he shuddered back and forth. “Stop. Stop. Just breathe, okay? I’m sorry. Can I get you a drink?” Cornwall kneeled, running his hands down Kent’s arms and grabbing his hands. 

Kent wheezed, shaking his head as tears bubbled up in his eyes. “Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Don’t cry. Hey. Look at me. Look.” Cornwall delicately tilted Kent’s head with his hand and let out a soft sigh, running his finger across Kent’s cheek and trying to sweep away the tears. “Oh, love, I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Get the hell away from me, you absolute monster,” Kent shoved Cornwall’s hand away, wiping away the rest of his tears and storming back towards the glass door. 

“Kent-”

“Leave me alone.”

The door slammed shut behind him and Cornwall was left outside in the cold, bitter air. Around him, the wind wailed as it shook through the treetops. Cornwall tucked a cigarette in his mouth, resigned, cupped his hand around his lighter, and set it aflame.


End file.
